[SP-F01] Fragments of Soil | «Earning a Living: Forager»

[Scar 0]

The silence in the clearing was overwhelmingly quiet, in a way that made the rustling of the grass seem like deliberate sounds. The light that came through the trees was neither bright nor whole, as it was covered by the branches that were full of leaves and the faint digital shimmer that indicated this specific part of the floor. Jack entered the space that was revealed by the disappearance of the smoke that was coming from a campfire. The air was sweetened with the smell of roasted herbs.

In the middle of the camp stood a wagon, its structure half buried in moss and covered with vines.

He stopped and with his eyes he tried to grasp the whole picture that unfolds. His gloved hand was on the blade of his sword in a very light and casual manner, not in a threatening sense, but just by habit. Skilled observation always comes first, followed by reaction.

After that, a woman emerged.

Her clothes were a fine paradox, forest greens and earth-toned browns, both looked like they were made of natural materials but the fact that they have been lived with and not freshly made was apparent, as though she existed in the space that lies halfway between the wild and the civilized. "So, it appears you've found me," she uttered, her voice having a melodic quality that was neither of greeting nor of rejection. "I tend to move around quite a lot, but someone always finds me. I suppose you are looking for some herbs?"

Jack's expression didn't shift much. He studied her eyes, sharp and bright like cut emeralds. "Not quite," he replied evenly. "I heard you could teach me more about gathering. The real kind, not just system-level scavenging."

That earned him a raised brow and the faint curve of a smile. "Most simply expect me to forage their materials for them, but few truly care about the process itself," she mused. "You surprise me."

She took a small, polished compass out of the pocket of her dress. Its metal part was shining under the sun, very old but quite well maintained for its age. "You may borrow my compass," she said, "Dark magic has made it capable of locating an incredibly rare item called a Demonic Shard. Should you find one, and bring it back to me, you will prove yourself worthy of my teachings. Take care, and may good fortune travel with you."

Jack took the compass carefully. The needle was turning twice before it stopped and pointed to the thick forest on the other side of the camp. He followed the point of the compass with his eyes but his face gave nothing away, though his brain was already calculating the routes. The system behind this NPC was way better than the average one, too smoothly for it to be just basic quest logic.

"I understand," he answered in a low voice. "Retrieve the shard, return, and earn your trust."

Giovanna's mouth was almost smiling, with a trace of both amusement and approval. "Precisely. Have fun, Jack. Though the forest looks young, it is far from it, and it doesn't like people who walk through it without a reason."

While he was heading for the forest, the firelight, moving with the wind, was behind him and it was highlighting his figure with the colors of summer and shade. In his hand, the compass was barely noticeable, but it was doing the same thing as the steady beat of his heart, waxing and waning with it.

Every cluster of earth that was underneath his boots was telling the same thing, that truth was, like any other harvest, dependent on patience and the readiness to get one's hands soiled.

***

Spoiler

Scar | HP: 140/140 | EN: 32/32 | DMG: 9 | MIT:4 | ACC:2

equipment.
initiate's draw. ACC 2 DMG

skills.
curved sword r5
cloth armor r1

WC: 622

Edited 8 hours ago by Scar

[Scar 0]

As Jack traveled deeper into the woods the surrounding world seemed to shrink. The air concentrated, beautifully smelling of wet wood and earth, a silence that muffled everything except his breath. He brought the compass back into his view, seeing the color red from the glowing light flicker slightly along with the slight movement of the needle. The tool was now very firm, indicating the center of the forest in front of him.

The path behind him had already disappeared. Roots, similarly to fingers of a skeleton, were quietly taking back the path. It seemed that the forest itself was against giving directions, only letting those who lost their way find the right one. Jack was not upset. It was a good fit for him. He operated in the manner of a slow, highly intentional person with his sight roving the land and mentally recording the facts: claws scratching the bark of a tree very lightly, a subtle indentation in the moss as a place where an animal has passed, wind whistling through hollowed out trees.

Every detail mattered.

Every pattern meant something.

He was close to a broken tree branch that had its bark stripped to reveal the wood beneath that was silver-gray in color. The decomposition was half-complete, perhaps a visual signal of an older spawn zone. Jack ran his fingers along it, feeling the soft give of moisture through the glove’s feedback system. The realism still impressed him, even after so many hours logged in. “Moisture density reads high,” he murmured quietly, noting it like an observation for a field report. “Recent rainfall event, possibly within the last in-game day.”

The compass pointed a little to the left. Jack didn’t wait to see where it was pointing, but followed him. His feet were a little buried in the earth which was still soft. The ground trended downwards towards a ravine covered in ferns that shone a little under the scattered sunlight coming through the trees’ leaves. The scented air here system was so intricately layered that even quiet had its own sort of language.

He stopped again, letting his eyes adjust. No enemies. No visible item nodes. Just the living rhythm of the forest, the kind of quiet most players would call boring. To him, it was perfect. It gave him time to think, to observe the mechanics behind the illusion.

“This zone isn’t random,” he thought. “Resource clusters are deliberate. Placement follows terrain logic, organic, but patterned. Someone designed this space to feel alive.” 

He glanced back at the compass. Still glowing. Still pointing forward.

Jack let his air out slowly and the sound was swallowed by the silence of the woods. The gathering was not the main point of the quest; it was about comprehension. Giovanna had made that clear, only those who sought meaning in process, not product, were worth teaching. 

He pressed on.

Change of leaves could be felt overhead and the slight buzz of insects had started getting louder, an ambient crescendo to the forest’s heartbeat. As he went farther down the temperature got lower and so did the mist that was coiling around his boots. It was sticking to him, cold and heavy as if it was a warning of him going into something older, deeper, and invisible. 

Once again Jack halted and lifted his eyes to the thick treeline ahead. Not far from there compass was flashing faster, like a heartbeat being heard through earth and rock. 

He didn't move closer just yet.

He simply watched, listening to the forest breathe.

* * *

WC: 591

[Scar 0]

The‍‌‍‍‌‍‌‍‍‌ forest had gotten darker. The weak sunlight that managed to pass through the canopy above had a dull, greenish tint, it was completely absorbed by leaves that overlapped each other like the scales of a massive creature that was lying and breathing slowly above. As Jack followed the compass' pulse which was getting calmer and the red glow turning into a very delicate ember, he slowed down his movement. It felt like the right place to begin.

He was kneeling close to some moss and removing the upper layer of damp growth with his hand to get the ground underneath. The soil was heavy, cold, and was laced with very thin veins of red light that shimmered very gently and then disappeared. His ear adjusted to the faint sound signal. The signature was weak but familiar, residual traces of the shard's influence, maybe.

"Composition seems right," he said under his breath. He took a small knife out of his belt and with its flat side moved a little earth from the side. The smell that came was quite metallic and sharp and also mildly acrid. He stopped, and his eyes got smaller as he looked at the layer brought out. The digital depiction was almost like the real thing with all its faults, lumps, little rocks, the moisture that was glistening in the right way with the light. It was not only a texture map. It wasn't just a texture map. It was behaviorally reactive.

He reached deeper, and that's when the shift acme.

The soil trembled. Barely, but enough. Not from beneath him, but somewhere close.

Jack froze.

The compass in his palm gave a faint, involuntary flicker, as though detecting something unlisted. Slowly, he rose to a crouch, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. The wind had stopped. There wasn't the sound of birds, neither that of insects. Silence was so tight that it even seemed to be his heartbeat that was making too much noise. 

Then he spotted it.

Just beyond the roots of an old oak, something stirred, a subtle sway that didn't belong to the wind. The movement repeated, rhythmic, deliberate. It was a plant that was almost a meter and a half tall and it was changing in quiet beats as if it was inhaling. At first glance, it looked like a giant pitcher plant, its trunk being covered with layers of green horror. Two handle-like vines were hanging from its sides, serrated leaves were going along them, the edges were sharp enough to cut bark.

However, what attracted his eyes was the mouth.

The center of its head was an enormous, red, open mouth and viscous liquid was coming out from it, slowly, in small, separate, and equal strands. Every time it opened, the droplets made a slight hissing sound when they touched the ground.

The tag blinked faintly in his HUD. Jack’s breathing slowed. His mind shifted gears instantly, from observation to calculation. Attack range. Reaction speed. Environmental hazards. He tracked its movement, noting how it turned toward vibrations rather than sound. 

It’s not hunting yet, he thought. It’s waiting.

He lowered his posture, one hand resting on the handle of his weapon. The situation for an attack would present itself, but not yet. Not without certainty. He saw the creature sway once more, its body dimly lit, and it seemed like it was drawing energy from the earth itself.

Momentarily, Jack’s eyes went back to the patch of earth which he had disturbed. 

Failed attempt, he thought silently. Lesson learned. Foraging required precision. Timing. Awareness. He had rushed it, focused too narrowly on detail and not enough on the rhythm of the environment. Now the forest was responding with another test of its kind. 

He slowly exhaled, his heartbeat getting steadied again. Patience first. Motion second.

So he was staying there, calm, silent, and of analytical nature, and thus waiting, the very moment when instinct and logic would be in agreement, while observing the rhythm of the ‍‌‍‍‌‍‌‍‍‌monster.

* * *

Spoiler

foraging.

ID: 255945 | LD: 2 | Failed

WC: 670

Edited Monday at 06:19 AM by Scar

[Scar 0]

The forest had gone utterly still.

Jack pulled his breath back very quietly. His hand that was holding the weapon tightened. The Nepent kept moving in such a unusual way. The vines were stretching and relaxing, and the mouth was opening and closing looking for food. The place where the liquid had hit hissed more with every droplet. The burned places looked as if they were smoking.

He studied its stance carefully. The movement pattern was predictable in structure, slow, with brief intervals of stillness. A patient predator. Its reaction time would likely trigger within a set proximity radius.

Jack changed his position, his hand going to his waist. The mud pressed against the sole of his boot for a second and the sound of his step was lost in the forest's noise. When the Nepent's mouth opened wide, he moved.

The first step was silent.

The second, decisive.

Shining out from the shadows of the oak, knife in hand, Jack swung the blade quickly, efficiently and to the point of severing the stem just below the head of the branch. The move was flawless if only in theory, timing was matched perfectly with the monster's breathing.

But theory rarely survived contact with reality.

The Nepent's body twisted unexpectedly at the last moment, vines snapping taut as if pulled by some invisible reflex. Staples from Jack's sword met only a couple of leaves that had been torn and the plant matter sound was cut by a hiss, the sharp intake that echoed the whole clearing.

Missed.

Before he could fully reset his stance, the creature retaliated. Its two-vine arms lashed outward in a blur of green and crimson. One was directing the blow to the place where Jack had just been, while the other was moving parallel to the ground, the leaves at its end shining with something that looked like acid.

Jack reacted instinctively, but even his reflexes were informed by analysis. With a retreat and turn he took ground off the wet earth and at that same moment, through his heel, he regained his hold. The foremost blow had fallen at quite some distance from where the aim was; the second one was done of such speed and closeness that only the swift brushing of heat through the sleeve was felt.

The monster's vines smacked against the earth with force, sending up a spray of dirt and decayed leaves. Tiny droplets of acid hissed as they landed on nearby roots.

Jack composed himself again and brought out a sharp breath through his nostril. Too reactive. Overshot the rhythm. He tightened his grip, forcing his thoughts into focus. His combat style wasn't built on brute strength, it was founded on observation and adaptation. One mistake wasn't failure. It was data.

The Nepent shifted again, its mouth opening wide as it let out a wet, gurgling hiss. The crimson liquid within it churned like boiling water. It was agitated now, but also predictable, its aggression followed stimulus.

"Alright," he murmured under his breath, tone calm and level. "Now I know how you move."

He changed the position of his foot a little, and the whole time, he was waiting for the next attack. The time when the forest was devoid of any sound seemed to be over as it now was pulsating with energy. The mist that was around was also getting denser and denser and it looked like a shapeless fight between a mentally analytical human and an instinct-driven animal was going on.

Who was going to be the fastest learner among them was going to be decided by their next ‍‌‍‍‌‍‌‍‍‌confrontation.

* * *

Scar | HP: 140/140 | EN: 30/32 | DMG: 9 | MIT: 4 | ACC: 2

Little Nepent | HP: 84/84 | DMG: 28

Spoiler

battling.

ID: 255949 | BD: 3+2 = 5 | Missed!

ID: 255949b | MD: 4 | Missed!

WC: 603

Edited 8 hours ago by Scar

[Scar 0]

Post Action: [x12] ST-I (12 EN) | A single-target sword art. 

Loot Rolls:
ID: 256007 | LD: 15 | CD: 4 | 252+168= 420 Col, Materials (2), Tier 1 Rare Trinket (1)

—

The‍‌‍‍‌‍‌‍‍‌ Nepent shifted its weight again, the ground softly shaking around its roots as it got ready to hit. Its moves were very controlled and calm, but you could tell it was very close to exploding like a trap. Jack could see the pattern now, the rhythm between its inhale and attack, the precise moment when its vines stiffened just before they snapped forward.

He steadied his breath. His previous miss had been a matter of timing, not awareness. This time, he wouldn't overextend.

The monster's mouth opened wide once more, the crimson liquid inside bubbling and hissing as its vines lashed out in opposite directions. Jack didn't retreat this time. He steeped forward into attack, blade raised low, his eyes fixed not on the creature's arm but on the subtle rotation of its core.

When the first vine cut through the air, he moved.

The curved blade arced upward in a diagonal slash, the first strike cleaving through the vine's edge. A bright spray of glowing fragments scattered in the air where the hit registered. The Nepent reeled, its other arm faltering mid-swing. Jack flowed forward into the opening.

The next movements came in a blur of mechanical precision. 

One strike, then another.

Two quick reversals.

A pivot and follow-through.

Each swing built upon the last, twelve clean, fluid motions that cut through the creature's body in a chain of glowing afterimages. His system-assisted combo triggered automatically, his blade flashing with faint blue light as it carved arcs through the dim forest air. The sound of impact echoed like rain striking metal, steady and rhythmic.

The Nepent spasmed once, emitting a bizarre, low-pitched scream. Its body twitched as it disintegrated into bits of code that were blown by the wind like dying coals scattered on the earth. For a very short time, the forest was again quite and you could only hear the very faint sound of particles vanishing into the air. 

Jack slowly brought down his sword, his breathing still controlled but quite heavy. He only relaxed the muscles of his upper body after the very last fragment had disappeared. He exhaled a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

That was it.

His first real victory.

Compared to his earlier encounter with the Boarlets, this had been different. Those creatures had been reckless, predictable, more tutorial than threat. The Nepent had been something else entirely: reactive, deliberate. It had forced him to think, to adapt in motion. The forest demanded precision, not mercy.

A faint pinged echoed in his ears as the system interface flickered into view.

└ System Message:                                                                     ┐
└ You have defeated [Nepent - LV.7]
└ Rewards: 420 Col, 2 Materials, 1 Unidentified Rare Trinket

The translucent window hovered briefly before him. Jack blinked once, scanning the data, then tapped the confirm icon. The items transferred to his inventory with a soft pulse of light. The trinket's name was blurred out, its stats concealed until identification. He'd deal with that later.

For now, he just let himself breathe.

He glanced at the faint scorch marks left by the creature's acid, the small craters pitted into the soil. The air still carried a tang of ozone and sap. His blade glimmered faintly under the filtered light before dimming again, the edge clean but still warm from the motion.

Jack sheathed it carefully, exhaling one last sigh. "First combat," he murmured under his breath, tone even but reflective. "Efficient. Not elegant, but efficient."

He looked toward the path deeper into the woods, where the compass's glow had steadied once again,  its light flickering faintly through the mist. The shard was still out there somewhere, and now he understood a little more of what it would take to find it. 

He straightened, wiped his glove against his coat, and moved forward, step by deliberate step, leaving behind the fading traces of his first battle in silence.

* * *

12x9= 108 DAMAGE

Scar | HP: 140/140 | EN: 18/32 | DMG: 9 | MIT: 4 | ACC: 2

Little Nepent | HP: 0/84 | DMG: 28

Spoiler

battling.

ID: 256005a | BD: 4+2= 6 | Hit!

ID: 256005b | MD: 2 | Miss.

WC: 646

Edited 6 hours ago by Scar

[Scar 0]

Post Action: Foraging for a Demonic Shard

The wood seemed to have a different vibe now; they were quieter and felt heavier, as if they had sucked in the sound of the Nepent's last moves. Jack changed the compass in his hand, letting the dim red light glow for just one more time before it stopped. The compass was pointing him firmly straight ahead, farther into the dark forest. The rush of his first fight still followed him, a slight heat in his chest, but the time of letting the adrenaline take over was done. The mission, as it was put by Giovanna, was still waiting for him: find the Demonic Shard and make it up to her that he is a worthy forager.

He knelt beside a patch of soil that appeared slightly discolored under the fractured light. Moist and soft, it shifted subtly under his fingers, but there were no unusual veins, no faint shimmer of energy, nothing to indicate the presence of the rare shard. He brushed away layers of decomposing leaves, stones, and loose moss, analyzing each fragment of earth with quiet intensity. Every pattern in the soil told a story, where water pooled, where roots tunneled, how insects had burrowed, and Jack catalogued each carefully in his mind.

He paused, taking a slow breath. Still nothing.

He stood and moved a few paces, scanning the surrounding undergrowth. Ferns with curled edges, fallen branches warped by rot, and clusters of ordinary herbs filled the clearing. Nothing here resonated with the same unnatural pulse he had sensed before. The compass trembled faintly but refused to settle, its glow indicating proximity but giving no exact location. It was like trying to read a map written in half-glimpses and whispers.

Jack crouched again and ran his gloved hand along the surface of the ground. The soil was dense in places, brittle in others, yet each change in texture offered nothing beyond ordinary forest debris. He softly hit a stone which was sunk into the ground with his finger and invited a hollow echo, but none came. His sharp mind was taking in everything: the degree of wetness, the growth of plants, the light coming through the leaves. Each observation was data, each failure a lesson.

A soft breeze stirred the leaves above, and he froze, scanning the shadows for movement. The Nepent was gone, but the forest still felt alive, vigilant. Jack's eyes moved quickly from one root to another, the slight shake of the earth making him consider whether it could be animals hiding there, water flowing, or perhaps the very faint effect of a magical artifact.

Time was dragging and was only measured in the number of breaths taken and the soft rustle of the leaves. His hand happened to touch a delicate vine and he stopped to think about its location, surface, and strength. No. Not it. Every near-candidate for the shard's location revealed itself as false under scrutiny. Even the glimmering end of a root which got a little bit brighter when it was touched turned out to be natural bioluminescence.

Jack breathed out deeply, and he balanced himself with his left hand a bit on his lower leg. "Failed again," was his quiet and calm, but somewhat exasperated, utterance. He did not linger on it. The fact that the shard was so hard to find was not a failure of one's skills but a reminder that sometimes simply watching is not enough. One would need the right moment, accuracy, and perhaps better knowledge of the forest’s quiet signs to be able to do it.

He stood and shook his shoulders, casting another careful glance around the clearing. The compass flickered in response, pulsing once as if aware of his continued effort. Jack adjusted his grip on his sword, though it remained sheathed, and began plotting a new path forward. He could only think of the Demonic Shard's location with each new failed attempt, as well as the environment, the hidden rhythms of the soil, that is, through each step he took further.

Patience, precision, observation, the forest was teaching him these lessons, and Jack intended to learn them all, one careful step at a time.

* * *

Scar regenerates 1 EN.

Scar | HP: 140/140 | EN: 19/32 | DMG: 9 | MIT: 4 | ACC: 2

Spoiler

foraging.

ID: 256011 | LD: 6 | Failed

WC: 694

Edited 8 hours ago by Scar

[Scar 0]

Post Action: Foraging for a Demonic Shard

The forest had grown quiet again. Too quiet. Even the faint hum of insects had faded, leaving only the distant rustle of branches far overhead. Jack stood motionless for a moment, the compass in his hand flickering with its dull crimson light. The light on the device was fading with each interval, not because of a defect, but as if even the instrument that it was guiding to him was getting tired of it.

He got down on the ground again, and removed some wet leaves from the floor of the forest with his sleeve. The earth was moist and stuck to his gloves like ink. He was digging gently, his fingers feeling along the roots that were buried and breaking down the hard earth in order to find something that was not like the rest of the forest, a slight glow, an unearthly rhythm that could have revealed the location of the Demonic Shard. But such things were not there.

Jack had a confused look on his face. "Still nothing," he murmured under his breath, his tone flat but edged with quiet thought. His mind replayed the pattern of his previous attempts, the coordinates, the distance from the last clearing, the way the compass needle had quivered faintly to the north. He had taken every step logically, he had considered every variable, and yet there was no difference in the outcome.

He sat back down on one knee, scanning the surroundings again. The forest stretched in every direction, thick trunks cloaked in moss, old roots rising from the earth like the bones of something ancient. The light filtering through the canopy had dimmed, taking on a greenish hue. It made it hard to tell what time of day it was anymore, but Jack didn’t need the sun to measure progress. He had data. Patterns. Repetition.

Standing again, he moved several paces forward, eyes sharp and steady. The compass needle twitched in his hand, not a full rotation, not even a confident pull, just a small vibration that hinted at direction but offered no clarity. Nevertheless, he followed the direction, believing that if the sign was faint it still counted for something. He could hear the words of Giovanna in his head: "Should you find one, and bring it back to me, you will prove yourself worthy of my teachings."

While moving his hand, which was covered with a glove, along the trunk of a tree nearby, he was realizing that its outer layer was not normal but had a spiral pattern, the kind that was made by thirty years of slow growth and environmental pressure. For a split second, he thought about the number of other players who might have passed here while looking for something, walking away empty-handed and trying again. Probably more than a few. And yet, that thought didn’t dissuade him. It steadied him.

Jack came down on his knee again and this time his third search of the location was slower, more focused and intentional. He took his short blade’s edge to lift up a little mound of earth and allowed it to fall between his fingers. Damp. Dense. No glow. No resonance. Just earth.

He sighed softly through his nose and wiped his hand against his coat. "Another failed attempt." He said. The words were not sarcastic, they were only real, spoken in the quiet way of thought. Foraging was not supposed to be easy. This system required patience and accuracy rather than luck. Every failure was a lesson for the next attempt.

He stood up straight, changed his position and looked at the compass once more. The glow steadied, faint, consistent. The shard was near. He could feel it. Not through instinct, but through deduction. Each failure was narrowing the possibilities, eliminating false leads. It was a process of attrition, and he was patient enough to see it through. 

The forest remained silent, watching, as Jack continued deeper into the unknown, each step a study in restraint and calculation.

* * *

Scar regenerates 1 EN.

Scar | HP: 140/140 | EN: 20/32 | DMG: 9 | MIT: 4 | ACC: 2

Spoiler

foraging.

ID: 256012 | LD: 7 | Failed

WC: 666

Edited 8 hours ago by Scar

[Scar 0]

Post Action: Foraging for a Demonic Shard

The‍‌‍‍‌‍‌‍‍‌ woods gave the appearance of being the same, however, the air was not as light, as if the trees had by now become conscious of his repeated interruptions. Jack was almost frozen for quite a while, the red flashing of the compass in his hand was very weak but visible. The light was very faint but it was surely the heartbeat of the compass pointing to the direction of his goal that till now had only been a mystery.

One more time, he got down to the ground and checked it thoroughly just like he had done on his previous search. Tiny roots were intertwined with each other in a totally disorderly way and there were layers of leaves covering earth so black that it looked like it was eating the little light that was coming through the tree branches. Jack removed every stone, lifted the leaves, and even tested the earth under his hand. Every gesture was perfect, every thought was recorded. Yet, the Demonic Shard was once again the underground’s unrecognizable entity.

Jack exhaled softly, the sound muted by the forest's hush. "Nothing." His tone was calm, devoid of frustration. Each failure was data, a refinement of his understanding of the environment and the subtle mechanics that governed the shard's placement. He adjusted his gloves, letting the faint friction of the leather against his palms ground his focus.

He moved slowly to another clearing, eyes sweeping the undergrowth for even the slightest anomaly. There were small mushrooms, moss in varying shades of green, and damp leaves glistening with moisture. Patterns, deviations, anything might have been a clue. But the needle of the compass remained steady, offering no flare of light, no resonance, no confirmation.

Jack knelt again, pressing fingers into the soil to feel its composition, the subtle differences in moisture and density, the minute vibrations that could indicate hidden energy. Nothing. Every detail was recorded mentally, every failed attempt catalogued for future reference, Each misstep honed his observational skills, even if it yielded no tangible reward.

The forest's silence pressed against him, thick and watchful, yet Jack remained composed. This was part of the process, the forager's trial, the discipline of patience and precision. Giovanna's words echoed faintly in his mind: "Few truly care about the process itself.. You surprise me." Even in failure, there was progress. Understanding, not just the result, was the measure of worth.

He straightened, brushing dirt from his knees. The compass puled softly, faint but steady, as if encouraging him onward. Jack's gaze swept the dense trees, the broken roots, the scattered undergrowth. Somewhere ahead, the shard waited, elusive, stubborn, and hidden. He would not falter. Each failure was another step closer, each observation another clue piecing together the pattern he sought.

He moved forward again, methodical, silent, deliberate. The forest watched, the compass pulsed, and Jack continued his search, resolute in his patience. Failure was not defeat. It was only part of the journey.

* * *

Scar fully regenerates EN.

Scar | HP: 140/140 | EN: 32/32 | DMG: 9 | MIT: 4 | ACC: 2

Spoiler

foraging.

ID: 256141 | LD: 13 | Failed

WC: 494

Edited 8 hours ago by Scar

[Scar 0]

Post Action: Foraging for a Demonic Shard

The forest closed in on him, the trees standing as quiet witnesses, the shadows waiting as guards. Jack tightened his hold on the pass, sensing its weak beat from his hand. The woods didn't give up their secret despite Jack's cautious walk. The Demon Shard was still hidden.

Once again, he was on the ground, looking everywhere in the dirt, removing leaves and bits of old bark. The roots were twisting on the earth as if they were snakes, thus Jack had to slow down his pace, walking carefully and intentionally. Everything was taken into account: moss on the ground, spots in the dirt, and even very faint traces of metal ores. He dug through pieces of soil, he checked the roots for sturdiness, and also he looked at slight color changes of the wet leaves. Every action was carefully thought out, accurate. Yet the shard remained elusive.

Jack exhaled, letting ten tension in his shoulders ease sightly. "Still nothing," he muttered. There was no frustration in his voice, only observation. Each failed attempt was data, an opportunity to refine his understanding of the forest and the subtle signs that could betray the shard's location.

He stood slowly, brushing dirt from his knees, and took a few steps toward a cluster of small ferns. The compass quivered faintly, a minor hint that perhaps he was moving in the right direction. But even this subtle sign did not result in discovery. The shard did not reveal itself.

The look of Jack wandered through the thick brush. He surveyed the scene for anything that might have been affected by the hidden energy, broken branches, scattered leaves, moss patches. And all of them were sitting there quietly, not giving up the elusive prize. He accounted for all his observations, and every mistake was saved for later attempts. The forest was instructing him without words: patience, focus, and accuracy were much more important than rushing or using one's strength.

He adjusted his stance again, scanning the area with sharp, methodical eyes. Every motion, every gesture, every movement of the compass needle was clue to the environment's hidden pattern. Yet, the Demonic Shard remained out of reach, teasing him with its invisibility.

Jack exhaled slowly, steadying himself. The failures were accumulating, but so was his understanding. Each attempt refined his sense of the forest, honed his awareness, and strengthened his methodical approach. He had not yet succeeded, but he had not failed in preparation.

With careful, deliberate steps, Jack moved forward once more, eyes scanning, mind cataloging, and hands ready. The forest remained patient, the compass pulsing faintly, and Jack pressed onward. Failure was not defeat, it was instruction. He would continue, relentless, until he discerned the shard’s hidden presence.

* * *

Scar | HP: 140/140 | EN: 32/32 | DMG: 9 | MIT: 4 | ACC: 2

Spoiler

foraging.

ID: 256142 | LD: 13 | Failed

WC: 455

Edited 8 hours ago by Scar

[Scar 0]

Post Action: Foraging for a Demonic Shard

The forest around Jack felt heavier than usual, the mist lingering closer to the ground, muffling the subtle sounds of life. Every branch, every leaf seemed to watch him as he moved carefully, his boots pressing into the damp earth with measured steps. The compass pulsed faintly in his palm, a weak heartbeat that had guided him through countless failed attempts. The Demonic Shard remained elusive, hiding somewhere deeper, just out of reach. 

He once more went down on his knees and his gloved hand dug into the earth and it removed some moss and dirt. Jack was very thorough with each and every piece of earth, taking note of the color, the water, and the density all with his head. He had already been here more than once, and yet, he would not let his repeat journey get him into the trap of being careless. Persistence was necessary, even if success was not guaranteed.

As he scraped at a small mound of earth, something hard pressed against his fingers. He paused, tilting his head slightly, eyes narrowing in focus. It wasn’t the shard. Not the faint glow or the pulse of magical energy he’d been searching for. But it was something tangible, a cluster of materials, partially buried under roots and decaying leaves.

Jack carefully lifted the pieces, brushing away dirt and inspecting them. The rough texture suggested they could be used in crafting or alchemy, remnants of the forest’s hidden bounty, perhaps a byproduct of the magical energy that lingered here. While they weren’t the rare treasure he sought, they were still useful. Small victories, after all, mattered as much as monumental ones. 

He let out a low exhale, a sigh of quiet relief more than satisfaction. "Not the shard," he murmured, placing the materials in his inventory, "but something nonetheless." His eyes swept the clearing again, cataloging each root, each stone, each patch of moss. Every detail was a clue, whether it led directly to the shard or not. The forest had rules, rhythms, and signs. Understanding them took time, patience, and keen observation.

Jack got up quite slowly, dusting his dirt-covered knees and fixing his coat’s strap with his hand. The compass gave a very weak signal, as if it was recognizing his determination, but it did not suggest any new way. The shard remained hidden. The things he held in his hands, however, were an assurance that his endeavors were not totally in vain. The woods are always ready to give back to those who really look, though maybe not in the manner they expect.

A faint noise from a bush near him made him lift his head quickly but it was just a little bird who was disturbed by his presence. Jack let out another breath, and he allowed his shoulders to drop a little. Every failure, every half-success, was training him, it was developing his patience, teaching him to be observant of the land, and testing his ability to endure without getting angry.

With carefully measured steps, he went deeper into the thick bushes and the beat of the compass in his hand was his silent helper. He would keep searching. There was no other option but to go on with the search, and he would be doing it until the day he would be able to see the hidden way to the Demonic Shard while he kept his account of the successes and failures. Any small success was still a step forward, and progress, however small, is always better than throwing in the ‍‌‍‍‌‍‌‍‍‌towel.

* * *

Scar | HP: 140/140 | EN: 32/32 | DMG: 9 | MIT: 4 | ACC: 2

Spoiler

foraging.

ID: 256143 | LD: 14 | Success!

WC: 592

Edited 8 hours ago by Scar

[Scar 0]

Post Action: Foraging for a Demonic Shard

Jack's‍‌‍‍‌‍‌‍‍‌ surroundings were heavily forested and unnervingly quiet. However, the atmosphere was different. Every step, every movement of the soil and the leaves was more loaded with a heavy feeling than the one that went before it. The Demonic Shard was still a mystery; its presence was almost there but the being could not see it. Another failed attempt. His breath was steady, measured, as he cataloged the details of the clearing once again, noting soil texture, root density, and scattered fragments of decayed vegetation.

Then came the faint sound, almost imperceptible beneath the soft rustle of leaves and distant bird calls, a low, wet, scraping noise. The beginning of it was so weak that it could be mistaken for the sound of a broken branch falling under the weight of something that cannot be seen, but the same horrifying undertone which he had heard during his encounter with the Nepent was there.

Jack stopped in his tracks and squinted his eyes. The compass was still faintly throbbing and leading him to his destination, but it didn’t recognize this new arrival. The forest around him seemed to hold its breath, as though it too sensed the lurking movement.

He crouched low, hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his curved sword, and scanned the underbrush with calculated precision. The looked through the brush with the most careful and thorough of eyes. There was movement in the shadows and the quiver of the leaves was very slight but quite unnatural. His pulse quickened slightly, though his face remained calm, stoic. He had trained his mind for observation, and now it was his weapon as much as the blade at his side.

The scraping sound grew louder, deliberate, with an uneven rhythm that suggested movement across roots and soil. Jack's sharply logical brain was the first to recognize the stalking pattern immediately: the creature was stalking him, it was waiting for an opening, just like the Nepent. He changed his position a bit, his feet on the ground, his weight equally spread. He would not let it happen again this time.

He looked around the woods closely and took in note of every shadow that moved with the rays of the sun partially blocked by the leaves. The forest’s layers of foliage created natural blind spots, but Jack had learned to anticipate the slight disturbances that hinted at concealed forms. Averted eyes of Jack caught the subtle movement of something vine-like that was touching the bark of a tree and it was hidden from his view to some extent.

"Another Nepent.. or something similar," he muttered under his breath, voice low and controlled. He tightened his grip on the sword, feeling the cool metal beneath his gloves, the familiar reassurance of its weight. The blade had carried him through his first combat. It would serve the same purpose again.

He exhaled slowly, allowing his senses to sharpen further. Every rustle, every subtle shift in light, every minor vibration of the ground was a signal. Jack took up a good position, a little bent at the knees, ready to make a move, but if the need came, he could get away. The forest which was only in his way in the search of the shard had turned into a battlefield of observation, patience, and reflex. 

The scraping was getting closer and Jack was able to see the figure moving between the thick tree trunks and overgrown roots because of the way he followed the movement with his eyes. He was prepared. This time, he would not miss.

His brain was a filing cabinet for the variables: wind direction, ground composition, distance, and expected strike patterns. Success or failure in an impending act of engagement hung on each factor. The creature lurking just beyond view would find no easy target. 

Jack exhaled again, a silent promise to himself. Combat had already tested him once. Now it would do so again, and he would meet it with the same calm, calculated precision that had allowed him to survive and succeed before.

* * *

Scar | HP: 140/140 | EN: 32/32 | DMG: 9 | MIT: 4 | ACC: 2

Spoiler

foraging.

ID: 256144 | LD: 3 | Failed.

WC: 676

Edited 8 hours ago by Scar

[Scar 0]

Post Action: [x12] ST-I (12 EN) | A single-target sword art.

Loot Rolls:
ID: 256167 | LD: 11 | CD: 6 | 252+ 168 + 84 = 504 Col, Materials (2), Tier 1 Rare Trinket (1)

It‍‌‍‍‌‍‌‍‍‌ was the moment that the monster revealed its full form from the shadow of the woods when Jack reacted. His instincts went on, they were not sharpened by experience but by necessity. The sound that had been terrorizing the border of his consciousness became clear and was the very slither of a Nepent, its heavy, muscular vines dragging on the forest ground, its mouth parting in a wet, hungry hiss that made the whole forest tremble.

The monstrous creature appeared the same as it had been partially covered with roots, but the monstrous part of it was more pronounced, the red mouth of it oozed the weird glowing fluid. It roared in a rough voice, it was opening up its body like a horrible flower. Jack had already encountered the creature once, so its next move was obvious to him. He didn’t stop for even a second.

In a single gesture, he took out his curved blade from the covering, the metal being shiny with a bit of dim green light that came through the leaves. His feet were on the ground firmly, his body balanced, without hesitation or a throwaway move.The Nepent reared, vines whipping forward to strike, but Jack was already in motion.

He dashed in low, shifting his weight with precision and grace, his blade trailing a faint arc of light as the system recognized his combat initiation. He gripped the sword tighter; his thoughts getting in line with his Sword Art technique—the twelve-hit combo that had been successful previously.

"Let's finish this," he murmured.

His blade cut through the air, first strike clean, slicing through one of the Nepent’s vines. The monster shrieked, the sound echoing through the forest. The second and third slashes followed instantly, tearing through its bark-like skin. The fourth, fifth and sixth were at such high speed in quick succession and mechanical precision each one flowing smoothly into the other. The woods were full of motion and light as Jack executed the combo, every movement was intentional, every blow to the right angle.

The seventh, eighth, and ninth, his power increased, and the air became slightly distorted with the digital effect that accompanies high-speed combat in Aincrad. The Nepent writhed, its body convulsing under the sheer force of his assault.

Tenth. Eleventh. Twelfth.

The final strike cleaved through the creature’s core, sending a burst of violet particles scattering into the wind. The Nepent let out a final screech before dissolving completely, its form breaking apart into glittering fragments that faded into the forest light. The sound of combat faded with it, replaced by the faint hum of the system notification.

A small, familiar chime resonated in the air as translucent blue text appeared before his eyes:

└ System Message:                                                                     ┐
└ You have defeated [Nepent - LV.7]
└ Rewards: 504 Col, 2 Materials, 1 Unidentified Rare Trinket

Jack exhaled slowly, letting his blade lower at his side. A faint tremor ran through his hand, not of fear, but release. Another battle survived. Another test overcome. Compared to his first encounter, this victory felt cleaner, sharper, earned through adaptation rather than chance.

He looked at the pieces of data that were scattered and dissolving into the earth. "I don't think you would have been able to hit me if you wanted," was what he talked to himself, his voice being dry and having a bit of irony in it. The forest was as silent as before but the heartbeat of his body could still be felt matching the rhythm of the flicker of the compass in his pocket.

His sight was still on the trinket that appeared in his inventory, an icon that was gently glowing and the use of which was the most reasonable thing to be quite unknown. Perhaps a small reward from the system, or perhaps something tied to the shard he sought. Either way, it was progress.

He sheathed his sword once again, the faint click echoing softly through the trees. The mission was far from over.

* * *

12 x 9 = 108 DAMAGE!

Scar | HP: 140/140 | EN: 20/32 | DMG: 9 | MIT: 4 | ACC: 2

Little Nepent | HP: 0/84 | DMG: 28

Spoiler

slappin.

ID: 256166 | BD: 6+2=8 | Success!

WC: 669

Edited 5 hours ago by Scar

[Scar 0]

Post Action: Foraging for a Demonic Shard

The‍‌‍‍‌‍‌‍‍‌ forest had gone eerily quiet after the battle. The very faint shimmer of dissolving data receded into the canopy light, leaving only the smell of wet earth and burnt leaves behind. For a moment, Jack was still, his eyes were looking at the area of the ground where the Nepent had fallen.

He could still feel the weight of his heartbeat echoing faintly through his hands, the aftershock of combat, the tension refusing to fade.  But there was still work to do. 

He sheathed his sword with a deliberate motion and retrieved the compass from his pocket. The faint pulse of light within it was steady now, rhythmic, a muted heartbeat in his palm. The compass had been his guide during these past hours full of failure and frustration, its call always bringing him near but never quite near enough. With each failure to find the Demonic Shard, his patience had worn a little more, but not his determination.

However, now the compass’s light was getting stronger.

Jack got down dirt on his glove and moved it aside from the area where he was looking. Every one of his actions was very cautious and almost he seemed to be worshiping, as if being scared that the slightest mistake would make the shard disappear again. The ground here was not only darker but also more fertile, and it had a very faint noise that tickled his fingertips. He looked at the ground more intently as he removed more dirt and fragments, his eyebrows came together.

Something caught the light.

At first, the faint glimmer was very dull, but then it was pulsing faintly and in rhythm with the compass. He went closer, and his fingers were a little bit shaking as he removed the last piece of the earth. There was a piece lying between the twisted roots and scattered stones, which was unlike anything he had seen before, it was jagged, crystalline, and had veins of shadow which seemed to flow beneath its surface. 

The Demonic Shard. 

Jack exhaled sharply, almost disbelieving. His hand was there for one more moment before he actually went and took it off the ground. The shard’s surface was cold with the touch, and it was a little bit heavy for its size. A faint whisper was echoing inside his mind, system data, perhaps, or something older and darker. He was not sure which.

And then it hit him, the sheer relief of succeeding after what seemed like an endless string of failures.

A strained laugh escaped his lips, followed by a long, heavy sigh that carried every ounce of tension and frustration he’d been holding in. He tilted his head back and shouted toward the open sky above the canopy, the sound raw and unrestrained. "Finally!" His voice carried into the silence of the woods, swallowed by the thick trees, leaving him standing there, tired, dirty, but victorious.

It was far from being just about the finding of an item. It was validation. Proof that persistence meant something in this strange world.

Jack looked down at the shard once more, its dark surface reflecting faintly in his eyes. "You really didn't want to be found, huh?" he muttered, a small smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. He slipped it carefully into his inventory, the familiar chime confirming the addition.

For a moment, he simply stood there, listening to the forest breathe around him. The failures, the tension, the endless searching, all of it had led here. He was no closer to understanding why the shard mattered or what Giovanna intended to teach him, but for the first time in hours, the compass in his pocket had gone still.

And so had he.

* * *

Scar regenerates 1 EN.

Scar | HP: 140/140 | EN: 21/32 | DMG: 9 | MIT: 4 | ACC: 2

Spoiler

foraging.

ID: 256168 | LD: 17 | CD: 7 | Success!

WC: 621

Edited 5 hours ago by Scar

[Scar 0]

The forest gradually thinned as Jack made his way back toward the small clearing where he’d first met Giovanna. The rhythmic crunch of leaves under his boots felt almost comforting now, the tension that had carried him through his search beginning to ease with each step. The compass pulsed faintly in his hand, its glow now dimmer, calmer, until finally, it faded completely as if acknowledging that its purpose had been fulfilled.

When the treeline broke, the familiar sight of Giovanna’s modest campsite came into view. The woman in green was tending to a small fire beside her wagon, humming quietly to herself as a faint breeze carried the smell of herbs and soil through the air. She looked up before he could even announce himself, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her face.

"So," she said, straightening and brushing her hands against her dress. "You've found a Demonic Shard!" I'll confess, you've learned all that I could teach you through this single quest. Trial by fire has always been my preferred style." 

Jack didn't answer immediately. He simply stepped forward and held out the compass. Its once-bright glow had faded to a soft, almost sleeping hue. "You could say that," he replied, his voice carrying a restrained calm, though the exhaustion underneath was evident. "It took.. longer than I expected."

Giovanna letting out the softest of laughs that was heavily colored with amusement, smiled and said, "Most give up long before they reach that point. I wasn't sure if you'd return, but something told me you might." After turning the compass around in her hand and inspecting the blackened side with a quite awe, she put it into her pocket.

Her eyes fixed on Jack as she spoke, the same bright green shining through them. "Did you feel it? The pull of the shard?"

Jack was somewhat puzzled by the comment and answered with, "It wasn't.. normal. It's like the air itself changed near it."

"The reason for this is that the shard is not from here," Giovanna replied in a low voice, almost to herself. "You are very good. Very few people manage to find even a tiny bit of something like that. However, you.." With her slight smile she said. "You have demonstrated that patience and persistence are stronger than any weapon."

Without a word she came up closer to him and firmly placed her hand on his shoulder. "I knew you could do it," she said, her tone light and almost playful, though the look in her eyes carried a deeper respect. "From the moment I saw you, I could tell there was something different. Something.. deliberate."

Giovanna motioned toward her wagon, where bundles of herbs and vials glinted in the afternoon light. "You may keep what you found. The shard, the materials, they're yours. A reminder of what persistence earns. Just don't lose sight of that lesson the next time the world tries to test your patience."

Jack nodded. "I won't."

She smiled faintly, stepping back toward her fire. "Good. And if you ever find yourself wandering these woods again, you're welcome to stop by. I come always use a pair of steady hands and a sharp eye."

He offered a quiet smirk, adjusting the strap of his sword. "Maybe I will."

With that, he turned toward the treeline once more, the sounds of the forest welcoming him back. The compass was gone, but the faint hum of its guidance lingered somewhere in the back of his mind. He hadn’t just earned a living this time, he’d earned something far rarer in this world: self-assurance. 

And as the trees swallowed him once more, the forest felt a little less vast.

* * *

WC: 615

[Scar 0]

Thread Closed:

Scar | [Word Count: 8614/5 = 1722.8] * [True Tier: 1] * [Group Factor: 1] = 1722 EXP

[quest.]
- 300 EXP
- «Forager» Profession unlocked
- A Demonic Shard
- 1 Material

[mobs.]
- 924 Col
- Materials (4)
- Tier 1 Rare Trinket (2)
ID: 256167 | LD: 11 | CD: 6 | 252+ 168 + 84 = 504 Col, Materials (2), Tier 1 Rare Trinket (1)
ID: 256007 | LD: 15 | CD: 4 | 252+168= 420 Col, Materials (2), Tier 1 Rare Trinket (1)

[summary]
2022 EXP
924 Col
1x Demonic Shard
5x Materials
2x Tier 1 Rare Unidentified TRINKET #256167 #256007